Nadia was sorry to see him go. She’d missed talking with him. “Couldn’t you stay for one drink?”
He shook his head. “I’m hoping to take the controls during the flight, at least for the first couple of hours, so no espresso martini for me. You’re welcome to mine.”
Quentin stood. “Guess I’ll have to buy you that drink when you come home.”
“That’ll work.” He clasped Quentin’s outstretched hand. “Take good care of Nadia, cuz. She’s a gem.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
Nadia told herself not to read anything into Quentin’s comment. It was the polite thing to say, nothing more. Pushing back her chair, she went over to give Roarke a good-bye hug. “Have a safe trip.”
He hugged her back. “You bet. And don’t be such a stranger. Things didn’t work out with my brother, but I’d still like to stay in touch.”
“Okay.” She smiled up at him. “I’ll call you first thing next time I’m in town.”
“You do that.” He released her and stepped back. “See you folks later. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” Roarke turned and walked away.
“He knows me too well,” Quentin said.
“Oh?” Nadia glanced at him.
“Never mind. Listen, now that we’re both standing up, would you like to dance?”
CHAPTER TWO
Quentin took Nadia’s hand, the skin-to-skin contact giving him a jolt of sexual awareness, and led her to the small dance floor. She moved into his arms with a natural grace that heated his blood and stirred his loins.
From the moment he’d spotted her standing on the sidewalk in front of Jessie’s, he’d promised himself that before the night was out, he’d at least treat himself to one dance. This was a golden opportunity he wasn’t willing to pass up after all the years he’d lusted after her.
In fact, he’d been spinning some hot fantasies that involved using this trip of Nadia’s to finally act on that lust if she had time and was willing. Then he’d been abruptly reminded of her station in life—heir to the Henderson throne—and realized that whether she was pledged to Aidan or not, she was still out of his league.
If Quentin had made some effort to keep up with pack politics, he would have heard the rumors that her father wanted her to take over. But there was another major difference between him and Nadia—he didn’t give a damn about pack politics and never would.
Now that he’d been reminded of the chasm between them, he’d made every effort to douse the flame of lust that ignited every time he came within ten feet of her. But then they’d ended up alone, without the presence of Roarke to mute the attraction.
Under these new conditions, self-restraint was difficult to come by. Her hot body moved in perfect time with his. He wasn’t surprised. They’d match each other’s rhythm in bed, too. Or out of bed, if they chose to come together as Weres.
Her smooth cheek nestled against his and her warm breath caressed his ear. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”
He pulled back to stare at her. “My what?”
“Girlfriend. I have a strong suspicion that you have one. And because of that, we probably shouldn’t even be out here on the dance floor together. The Were community is small. Wolves gossip, and she’ll find out.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He wondered how in hell she’d jumped to that nutty conclusion.
Her gaze locked with his. “You’re not involved with anyone?”
“No.” How he’d dreamed of looking into those beautiful gray eyes as he held her close. He pulled her back into his embrace and twirled her around the dance floor.
“I thought you might be.”
“Why?” The female mind was a fascinating puzzle. The female body, especially hers, was fascinating in a different way, but he probably should dial back his reaction to her by several notches or he’d embarrass himself.
“When we first met outside, I thought you looked at me with . . . interest.”
“There’s an understatement. That orange dress is killer. You look like a runway model in it, especially wearing those silver heels. You’re sexier than any woman I know.” He probably shouldn’t have added the last part, but when he did, she sighed and melted against him the way hot wax slipped into a mold.
“So I didn’t mistake that look you gave me,” she murmured.
“No.” He tightened his grip as their bodies aligned. “You knocked my socks off.”
“But then afterward you seemed way more reserved. How come?”
“I’ve always known you were several steps above me in the hierarchy, but I hadn’t heard that you’re in line to become the Henderson alpha.” Her h*ps fit neatly against his and no doubt she knew exactly how she’d affected him. “A Were in your position . . .”
“Should be celibate?”
His heart raced. Yeah, if they had sex, she might consider him the equivalent of the pool boy, but was he going to quibble about that? No. “Careful might be a better word. You have to be careful who you get involved with.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Glad to hear it.” And he would be, too. If they used this opportunity to get cozy, he’d make sure he remembered his place in the pecking order. He wouldn’t start dreaming impossible dreams.
The heat between them had reached the point where they might be wise to leave the dance floor, though. The music wasn’t over yet, but unless he put some distance between them, he was liable to lead her off the floor, out of the nightclub, and into the nearest cab bound for his place.
She might even let him do that. But he thought they should both be clear about their motivations before, and if, they surrendered to this attraction.
“We need a time out,” he said. “Let’s go back to the table, drink our drinks, and talk.”
She laughed softly. “Okay.” Easing away from him, she walked back to the table, h*ps swaying provocatively.
Sucking in a breath, he followed her. Yeah, he could be her pool boy for a couple of days. He was willing to be used for sex. At least then he’d finally, finally have some real experiences to thread into his fantasies about her.
By quickening his pace, he managed to round the table and help her into her chair. Her glossy hair smelled like wildflowers, but he also caught the scent of arousal.
Any Were who walked past the table would pick up on it. Add that to the way they’d been plastered together on the dance floor, and logical conclusions would be reached. Fortunately the nightclub was nearly empty. Still, Nadia was right about gossip, and he didn’t want to unthinkingly subject her to that, considering her standing in the Were community and his lack of one.
When he sat down, he moved his chair further to the right, away from her heat.
“You’re doing it again.”
He glanced at her. “Doing what?”
“Pulling back. Look, if you have a girlfriend, but you’re still attracted to me, I understand. It happens. We’ll have our drinks and go our separate ways.”
He met her gaze and wondered why she was stuck on this girlfriend subject. He couldn’t think of anything he’d said that would lead her to think he had one. “Nadia, I promise you I’m not involved with anyone, human or Were.” He picked up his Scotch and soda. “Here’s to . . . friendship.”
She regarded him with a bemused expression. “To friendship.” She touched her martini glass to his tumbler and sipped her drink while gazing at him over the rim.
He swallowed a hefty amount of the smooth Scotch. It was put up or shut up time. “I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise that I’ve been attracted to you for quite a while.”
“As you could probably tell, it’s been mutual.”
He fought the surge of desire that threatened to block out all logic. “I thought so, but . . .” He couldn’t hold back a grin. “It feels great to get confirmation after all these years.”
“You were Aidan’s cousin, and I didn’t think—”
“Same here. It would have been a really bad idea.” He took another gulp of the Scotch.
She wanted him and he wanted her. Could anything be simpler . . . or more complicated? They could walk out of here, and if they took a cab instead of a hired car, the Were community wouldn’t have to know where they went or what they did after that.
No, that wasn’t true, either. Sylvester would know they’d taken the same cab because of the security cameras trained on the sidewalk. Okay, if they wanted to be discreet, they could take two cabs and meet somewhere.
That should be her call because she had the most to lose if gossip became a problem for her. Whether they kept the liaison secret or not, they could agree they were merely scratching an itch, nothing more. His ego would appreciate that kind of understanding.
“I can almost hear you thinking.” Her voice had a teasing lilt to it. “I’m curious as to whether we’re thinking the same thing.”
He realized he’d been staring into his drink and glanced up. “I was thinking that you’re not pledged to Aidan anymore.”